Saw - The South Park Version
by Meghan486
Summary: Stan and Kyle awake in what appears to be an abandoned bathroom, chained to pipes, unable to find an escape. How will they manage? Rated T for filtering reasons, will become fairly graphic, but no sexual content. Stan and Kyle friendship. Not 100% similar to Saw I, only based.
1. Chapter 1

Holy shit guys, I haven't written a new story in A WHOLE YEAR. Does anybody remember me? Obviously I'm still a Style writer, but this is totally different than anything I've ever done before.

It's Saw: South Park Style. Totally horror, and based off of the first (though inspiration from all of the other movies) movie, though I'm probably going to do the second one as well, if this one goes good. Though the things that happen will be different, and knowing the movie won't spoil anything for you, other than the fact that there is a Jigsaw. And if you haven't seen the movies, EVEN BETTER!

Also, for those who have seen the movie: Kenny, lying on the floor, is actually dead. He's not actually Jigsaw, like in the movies.

* * *

Kyle fluttered his eyes open. All he could see was black, though his eyes started to adjust. He could see figures of things, and smelt something absolutely rancid. His head started to pound as he became aware of what was going on.

"Where am I?" Kyle said aloud.

He heard nothing.

"Hello?" He yelled this time, hoping he was simply waking from a nightmare, and his mother would come rushing to his side. Though, once again, nothing.

He scooted backwards, and his back hit a wall. He pushed himself upwards, hoping to find a light switch. All he could feel were pipes. The ember haired sixteen year old stared walking forward as fast as he could, hoping to find something that could tell him where he was. Before he could even start to run, he fell foreward, his foot caught on something.

"What the fuck!?" Kyle screamed, confused at what was restraining his ankle.

"Mmmhmppp…" he heard from across the room.

"Hello!? Is somebody there?"

"Kyle? Mmm, Kyle…" he heard, once again. Was that… Was that Stan?! He was immediately filled with hope. Had he been having a sleepover with the boy? Were they just in the basement of his house after playing video games too late? But what about the restraint? Before his mind wandered too much, he decided to call out to Stan.

"Stan? Is that you?"

"What?! Kyle?! Where am I?!"

Kyle heard the rustling of what sounded like a chain, and realised that Stan had begun to struggle, trying to move around.

"Stan, I don't know where we are, but I need you to stand up and try and find a light switch. We need to see where we are, okay?" Kyle asked politely, hoping not to scare Stan.

The raven haired boy did as he was instructed. A minute after he stood, he found the switch. The light immediately blinded the two boys, both of them falling to their knees with their hands over their eyes. Moments later, Stan pulled his hands away, blinking until the room became clear. With what he saw, he wished he had never unveiled before him.

Kyle was across the room, chained by the ankle to a pipe. Next to him was a bathtub with what appeared to me water droplets slowly dripping from the tap, though Stan could see no further, due to his location in the room. Kyle was also placed near a broken toilet. The floors, walls, and ceiling were what appeared to be white, though coated with dust, dirt, and cobwebs. Stan had also seen something so horrible, he hadn't even taken the time to look closely, too afraid of what- or who- it could be.

No longer able to avoid it, Stan looked. There was Kenny, lying in the middle of this supposed bathroom, in nothing but boxers and a white t-shirt, drowned in his own blood. In his hand was a gun, so it was obvious he had shot himself. Had he been in the exact situation that Stan and Kyle were in, and given up on escaping? Choosing to kill himself? Stan wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Across the room, Kyle was still in the same spot, though his eyes were wandering as Stan's were. His jaw had dropped from shock, and his eyes began to become teary.

"Stan… What's going on?" Kyle whimpered.

"I don't know… But we need to get out of here." Kyle nodded. "Do you remember what you were doing before you woke up?"

"I remember…" the boy took a moment to collect his thoughts. "I remember getting a text telling me to go to Stark's Pond, that you were hurt…"

"What?! I wasn't even at Stark's. Why would somebody of sent that?!" Stan was furious. The idea of him had been used to bait Kyle into putting himself in a dangerous position.

"Obviously it was whomever put us in here! What were you doing before?" Kyle said in disbelief, turning into questioning.

Stan sat for a long moment, clearly unable to remember exactly what he had been doing.

"Stan?" Kyle asked, becoming unpatient.

"My mom and I got in to a fight. I told her I hated her, and I wish I lived with Dad," Stan started. Things had been rough for him and his family ever since his parents had gotten a divorce nearly a year ago. "And then, to clear my head, I wen't… I went to Stark's Pond," Stan said, quickly remembering.

"I remember walking there, but I don't remember leaving. He, or she, must have taken us both from there, together… But I don't remember seeing you." Stan stated.

"Obviously he took one of us first. Well, do you remember anything about him?" Kyle asked.

"How do you know it was a "he"?"

"Well it was somebody strong enough to take us, so I'm only assuming. I remember somebody calling my name… But that's it."

Stan agreed with the reasons behind it being a man, but couldn't remember any details of him being taken.

"Well, that doesn't help much. Check your pockets; do you have your phone with you?" Kyle told Stan, before checking his own pockets as well.

Stan pulled out a tape-recorder, but no phone. He had never used a tape-recorder, let alone owned one. Someone had obviously put it there. His confusion was somewhat gone after Kyle pulled out a tape.

"What the-" Kyle said, before noticing what Stan was holding. "Quick, put it in!" Kyle tossed the tape.

Stan, unsure of how to use the device, put the tape in the wide opening, and looking for a 'play' putton, soon finding one. Then, there was a voice. The voice of a man, horribly frightening, speaking from the tape-recorder.

_Hello. I want to play a game. The two of you are trapped. You have the next 12 hours to escape, before the door, the door that could set you free, is permanently locked, and you are left to die. I cannot help you in your escape, but do know this: I am on your side. I want you to figure out how to get out of here. But do not let this fool you. If you are not smart enough, clever enough, trusting enough, you will die. Here is your first clue to finding your escape: Your mother, Stan. What does she do that bothers you so much? Figure this out, and find your clue. Follow it, and you will live to see the light of day again. If you're lucky, you will hear my voice again soon._

* * *

Dun dun dunnn….

Please review, it'll inspire me to write more. Though I hope to write a new chapter every 1-2 days. If I get bored, I may do a few a day.


	2. Chapter 2 - More to Live For

I'm going to Maine for the week so I'm either going to be able to write a lot during the evenings stuck in a hotel, or not much. But to one of the reviews, YES, I WILL DEFINITELY FINISH THIS STORY. I PROMISE YOU. IF I DON'T, YOU CAN EAT ME. (this is also a hint that after this, I may be doing a Hannibal themed South Park fanfiction…. Ooolala.)

AN: When Stan talks about having less to live for, I don't believe that's true, what-so-ever. And in a real-life situation, both people deserve to live, and should. But the part of the story is completely for the sake of the story.

* * *

"Well, Stan?! What the fuck does your mother do this pisses you off?!" Kyle questioned, fear filling his voice.

"Besides divorce my father and never letting me see him? " Stan replies sarcastically.

"Seriously dude, what could work in this situation?"

"I don't know," Stan replies, hitting his hand to his face, obviously flustered. "While I think, let's look around."

"How? We're chained to pipes, for fuck's sake." Kyle motions to his constrained ankle.

The two boys both attempt in vain to pull their ankles out of the shackles, and start to struggle. Stan, clearly aware that it could never work, gives up. He looks over at Kyle, watching his best friend in the entire world, struggle, and sees the fear in his eyes. In all of their years of being friends, Stan had never seen such fear on Kyle. Sure, he got scared when his mother yelled at him, or when he failed a test, but never like this. Stan could tell Kyle was fighting for his life. It was at that moment, that Stan realised; he needed Kyle to survive more than he wanted himself to survive. Stan's own parents were divorced, he didn't have too much of a future, and had a lot less to live for. Therefore, he had to get Kyle out.

"Kyle, stop. That's not going to work. We need to look around, check behind the pipes, the tub, the toilet, everything you can. I'll try my best, too, but there's not much around me."

Stan looked behind the pipes, though, as he had expected, nothing there. He couldn't think of anywhere else to look around him, so he instructed Kyle's search instead.

"Look in the bathtub," Stan directed.

"Sick, dude!" Kyle exclaimed, and then proceeded to explain the tub's situation. It was filled nearly to the top with brown and green water that appeared to be filled with puke, or other bodily fluids. "There's nothing else in there."

Kyle then inched his way to the toilet as best as he could. Luckily, his restraint allowed him to make it that far. He then lifted the seat, and Stan watched as the boy gingerly reached his hand into the bowl, and his eyes lighting up with not only hope, but extreme curiousity. Stan knew there had to be something that the boy had found.

"What is it?!" Stan asked, unable to wait any longer.

Kyle yanked a small plastic bag out of the toilet, before hearing the noise of water resurfacing. Clearly whatever it was was large enough to clog the entire toilet.

"A bag?" Stan asked, slightly disappointed.

"No, there's something inside of it," Kyle pointed out, before unwrapping the bag. Inside were two hand-saws. "Look!"

Kyle seemed ecstatic. He quickly took one of the two saws, and started to attempt to saw off the chain that was keeping him attacked to the pipe.

"Can I have one?" Stan asked, hoping to do the same.

Kyle held up the other saw, and got ready to throw it across the room to his friend.

"Whoa, hold it. You can't throw a fucking saw across the room like that, Kyle, toss it, like a Frisbee, and AIM NEXT TO ME, NOT AT ME," Stan told the ginger boy, who was waving the saw around like an excited mad-man.

Kyle tossed the saw as he was told, but missed by a good five feet.

"Dammit!" Stan yelled. He didn't want to scare his friend, but was very frustrated. He reached for the saw, though was unable to get close to it. He then stretched his entire body out as far as possible, reaching to get the saw. He was so close, but his fingers could barely even graze the metal.

"Stretch your legs as far as they can go," Kyle took his turn at suggesting something.

Stan extended his leg as far as possible, stretching it beyond its capability.

"AHHHH, JESUS FUCK," Stan started to scream.

* * *

Oh nose! What could be wrong?! Make an assumption in the reviews!


	3. Chapter 3 - A Way Out?

I'm writing this while in a hotel, the hallway is really dark except for the really shitty lights. It makes me feel like I'm in an abandoned insane asylum, and I decided to leave my hotel room for the hallway to write and get inspiration for such a scary themed story.

Sorry for taking a few days. I'm in Maine shopping but I took some time.

* * *

Stan, pulling one leg to his chest, letting the other lay outstretched, continued to curse in pain.

"Stan, calm the fuck down. Tell me what's wrong!" Kyle yelled, scared for his friend.

"My leg!" Stan managed to say clearly in a fit of pain.

Stan pulled up his pant leg, rubbing it at the knee. "I think I dislocated it, or pulled it, or something stupid! I was stretching so far, and the chain held it back. Dude this fucking hurts!"

Kyle didn't know whether or not to feel relieved or bad for Stan. Sure, it was an injury that caused him pain. But, considering their situation, it could be a hell of a lot worse. He decided to keep quiet while Stan continued to massage his leg, waiting for him to speak again.

"Okay. It still hurts like a bitch, but I can manage," he said before pulling his pant leg down. "It's a good thing I don't need to walk, anyway."

Kyle let out a sad smile at Stan's attempt at a joke. It was true, but it was also miserable. The boys then started to both saw at the chain keeping them to the pipe. They sawed at the chain, the shackle, the lock, everything. But it didn't do anything.

"God dammit!" Kyle yelled after what seemed like an eternity of silence, other than the sound of saws against metal.

Stan looked over to see why the Jewish boy was so frustrated. He was holding the handle of his saw, but only that. It had broken. In that moment, Stan had an awful, horrible realisation.

This was the work of Jigsaw.

* * *

"He wants us to saw off our ankles. Not the chains Kyle, our FUCKING FEET," Stan exclaimed, suddenly much more nervous than before. He didn't want to scare Kyle, but he couldn't keep calm. He realised that if he were to die, he didn't want it to be like this. He at least wanted to die in the place of someone he cared about. And even if he did die in the place of Kyle, it wouldn't be this way. Never like this.

"Jesus fucking Christ. How do you know that?" Kyle seemed to be just as worried.

"There was a report a few weeks ago. Remember, they asked us in for questioning about Cartman's disappearance? How they haven't found him- all of him, at least- but they called all of his friends, including me, in to see if they knew anything?"

"Yeah, I went in, too. I figured he just ran away, for some stupid new business idea. That's what I told the police, too."

"Well, that was before they had found any evidence of what could have happened. Before they knew for sure if it was a kidnapping or a runaway," Stan started to explain.

"Kyle, they found out that it was a kidnapping. Did you read it in the paper?"

"I saw that they had found a place that looked like a possible location, but they didn't find a body," Kyle said. In his mind, he was reassuring himself. They had only found a place that was a possibility. They found no body, nothing. It had nothing to do with where they were now.

"They didn't release the whole story. And I only know about it because Cartman's mom told my mom. But they found chunks of his skin, and his wrist, which was still attached to a hand-cuff sort of thing. There was a saw next to it. Covered in dried blood."

"So you're telling me that whoever put us in here was also behind Cartman's kidnapping last month? Because of the saws? " Kyle asked, confused.

"Yes. They never his entire body, but it's assumed that he's dead. The police just haven't released that because they don't want any wide-spread panic. But whoever did that, and this, apparently tries to push people as far as possible to save themselves- like having to saw their own limbs off to get free. I don't know why, but I guess it's his own way of twisted torture."

"Well yes that's torture! I'm not cutting my fucking leg off!" Kyle was now in full panic mode.

"There has to be another way," Stan said to himself, looking around the room.

* * *

What do you want to see happen next?


	4. Chapter 4 - A Successful Clue

_My mom… What does my mom do that pisses me off so much? _Stan thought as he looked around the room for clues. It wouldn't involve his father, or anything relating to the divorce, because there was nothing in the room that those reasons could work for. It had to be something small, some bad habit that frustrated him. The toilet? No, there were already saws in the toilet, that wasn't it. The bathtub? Stan thought about it and then remembered.

"Kyle! I know! I know what the clue about my mom means!"

"What is it!?" Kyle asked excitedly.

"It's something stupid but it works. After Dad left, we moved into a smaller apartment, remember? And me, Shelly and Mom all share a bathroom. Well, Mom's hair always clogs the sink, and she makes me fix the pipes all of the time," Stan went on to explain. He always hated it, having to do every chore around the house, including ones that he had nothing to do with. It wasn't his fault his mother had become so useless around the house. It was her own goddamn fault. " The bathtub is the clue! You have to reach into the bathtub and pull out the plug and drain it!".

Kyle hesitantly inched his way towards the tub, and looked in.

"That's fucking sick dude. It's disgusting. The water is green and black! I don't want to put my hand anywhere near that!" Kyle said, disgusted.

"It's either that or we chop our feet off. Your choice. Your own blood, or a little bit of moldy water."

Kyle agreed with Stan's harsh sounding, but very true, statement. He plugged his nose with one hand, and looked away, and with his other hand, he quickly stuck it in to the water, reaching for a cord, but couldn't find one. Instead, he felt the texture of hair. And lots of it.

"Fucking Jesus Christ!" Kyle yelled after pulling out a large clump of blond hair, as well as having arm covered in the black and green water-esque substance.

"Whose fucking hair is that?" Stan asked.

The two realised at once. They both looked at the dead boy in the middle of the room. Kenny. And sure enough, a tuff of his hair was missing on the top of his head. It was now being held by Kyle, covered in black gunk.

Almost immediately, Kyle threw himself over the toilet bowl, and puked.

"Jesus Christ man!" Kyle was terrified. The man had not only let Kenny waste away and die, but had also used his body for Stan and Kyle's horrible fate.

Stan sat, almost in tears at seeing his best friend in such distress. Puke on his chin, his arm covered in muk, a frightened expression plastered on his face. It was almost too much to look at.

"The water is going down," Kyle said after hearing the sound of something thick draining.

"Is there anything in there?" Stan asked after waiting for the sound to stop.

Kyle, once again having to look into the bath, noticed something. A small, silver key was taped to the bottom of the tub. It was still covered in water, but it was there, and he could reach it.

"Look!" Kyle held it up, glee on his face. He looked so accomplished at his find. Like maybe it was the key to their salvation.

Kyle quickly pushed himself back to where he had been sitting, and tried the key on the lock to his shackle, but it didn't work.

"Fuck!" Kyle yelled, as he realised that it was too good to be true. The man who had put them here had obviously been trying to trick them, he thought.

"Throw it here!" Stan said, hoping that maybe it would work on his own lock.

And sure enough, it did.

* * *

Short chapter, sorry. But for those who have seen the movie, who do you think I'm making more like Adam?


	5. Chapter 5 - Breakable

I'm sorry it took me a little bit longer to write than I had expected!

* * *

Stan felt so relieved as he pulled the metal from his ankle. He stood up, stretched his legs, and had a new found hope. Though, at the same time, he didn't understand why it had only worked on his lock. Why not Kyle's? Was there another key for him? Was he the only one who would be able to be freed from this? He knew he was lucky, but that didn't change him from wishing Kyle had the same pleasure as he did.

Before he searched the room for clues, or tried to find an exit, he walked over towards Kyle. He gingerly walked past his other dead friend, Kenny, before throwing his arms over Kyle and into the tightest embrace the two had ever shared. It was purely friendly, but he had never been so relieved to have another person's touch. Especially from his Super Best Friend, who he was afraid he'd never be so close to again. Yet, here he was.

"Now, please, Stan, get us out!" Kyle whispered into the shoulder of the other boy. Kyle was happy that at least one of them had full body movement, though he was definitely jealous. The longer he sat there, unable to do anything, the more he felt the need to get out.

"I really don't want to do this, dude, but I think I should look in Kenny's pockets. Maybe there's something there, like we had in ours'?" Stan said, sadly eyeing the dead body before stepping closer.

While Kyle knew how terrible it was to have to do this, he agreed. If there was even the slightest chance they could find another clue, they had to take risks. Including tampering with a dead body.

Stan first took the gun from Kenny's cold, limp hand, placing it aside, careful not to even touch the trigger. Next, he checked to see if his boxers had pockets, and oddly enough, they did. Awkwardly trying to reach inside of them, without touching anything… else…. Stan felt a rectangular shaped thing inside of the pocket, and pulled it out. Another tape.

"Dude…" Stan said, pulling the tape into Kyle's view.

"Play it!" Kyle said with morbid enthusiasm.

Stan, putting the tape into the recorder, heard once again the husky, yet quiet voice of who they thought was named Jigsaw.

_Congratulations, you've found another tape. This means you've been able to figure out the first clue, so it's time for another. Kyle, this one is for you. What are you afraid of? Think of your fears and find the one that will lead to another discovery. The biggest question here is are you two trying to save yourselves, or each-other?_

The recording ended with a beep.

Kyle racked his brain, thinking of his fears. Death, but that would happen if he didn't find the proper fear. Public embarrassment, but that wasn't going to happen here. Listing off fears of his in his dead, he made it to one that could work.

"Stan, turn off the lights!" Kyle shouted, and Stan was very quick to obey.

The room, now dark as it had been when the two had awoken, seemed even more frightening with the lights off. Though once Kyle had the chance to look around the room, he saw it. A jigsaw, painted with glow-in-the-dark paint, on the wall.

"Do you see that?!"

"Keep looking at it, so we don't lose it when I turn the lights on," Stan instructed.

The lights were turned back on, and the jigsaw piece was now invisible, though they both remembered exactly where it was. Stan moved towards it, and realised it was painted on some sort of wall tile. Easily breakable. Now, what would they find inside of it?


End file.
